


A Girl, Touched By The Moon

by TheCacklingLass



Category: Pyre (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, There's a bit of angst but I tried to make this mostly sweet, mostly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 07:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11642208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCacklingLass/pseuds/TheCacklingLass
Summary: The Reader's feelings towards Fae have been noticed, and she is urged into acting on them.Takes place immediately after the second Liberation Rite, and as such will contain spoilers up to that point.





	A Girl, Touched By The Moon

You do not untense until the blackwagon sets down once more in the cavern near the summit of Mount Alodiel. You have come, in a fashion, to think of this place as a home near as much as you do the Blackwagon. The moonlit walls are familiar to you by now, after the many months you have spent surrounded by them. A similar release of stress seems to come over the other Nightwings, once you are relatively safe. Once again there is one less of you, and the air is at once somber and jubilant. Dinner is accompanied by laughter and bittersweet complaints about the sudden lack of Hedwyn’s cooking skills, and when you have all finished supping together you part ways for the night, as you did following the previous Liberation Rite. You know by now that everyone needs time to deal with the development in their own way.

You, for your part, step out onto the wagon’s stoop and find Volfred there, smoking his pipe thoughtfully as ever. He acknowledges you with a nod you return in kind, and you decide to sit next to him in silent companionship. Some of the other exiles lodge complaints from time to time about the noxious herbs Volfred smokes, but you find their scent calming – focusing, in a way. A short way from the wagon Fae and Ti’zo play, chasing after each other in a way that suggests they are being carefree at the same moment they are training.

“It is good to see Ti’zo enjoying himself so,” Volfred says after a long time, “Finding kindred spirits is good for the soul, I feel. They are both far more than their appearances would suggest.”

“That they are,” you respond, almost immediately. “Would that anyone could see it so plainly.”

“Well, I suppose that is both our gift and burden as readers, hm my girl?” Volfred chuckles to himself, “Many things that elude others are almost painfully evident to us.”

“Just so,” you concur hesitantly, sensing that Volfred is not finished.

“Speaking of,” he continues after a long draw on his pipe, “I wish to discuss a matter of business with you. The Liberation Rite,” he does not wait for your assent before moving to the heart of the matter, “I find your choice tonight… interesting, to say the least.”

“How so?” you ask, though you think you take his meaning perfectly clear. Volfred seems to think so as well, but does not press you on that point.

“I will not deny Hedwyn’s worthiness as anointed, but I think we both know Fae would also have been a fine choice. I am curious why you did not choose her.”

“There are a number of reasons,” you begin after a long moment, after you have had the chance to calm yourself and keep the nerve from your voice, “Firstly I felt Hedwyn would be more useful to The Plan, at least at this juncture. To put it bluntly I’m not sure how much good Fae could do. She was cast from the Commonwealth simply for being herself; a person like that isn’t going to hold much sway on the hearts of law-abiding citizens.

“Moreover… she seems happy down here,” your voice is tentative now. As much thought as you have given to the matter, you are still unsure speaking on behalf of the moontouched girl, “She feels… closer to the Scribes, I sense, and I believe you sense it too,” you look briefly to Sandalwood for confirmation and he nods solemnly. “I think she is glad for this opportunity to learn from them, as she sees it, and I would feel uneasy taking that from her now, when she still has so much left to gain.”

“There is another reason,” Volfred utters the words you feared and your blood runs cold. He turns to look at you directly for the first time since you joined him on the stoop. “You are not so stoic as you may believe, Reader. I have not looked into your heart on this matter, but still I have my suspicions. I remind you that our relationship is built on trust, and ask that you not lie to me. Please, tell me the whole truth of it, my girl.”

“I will admit to a certain fondness for her that extends beyond friendship,” you confirm after Volfred goes back to drawing on his pipe. You continue to speak, and you both know that your justifications are as much to convince him as they are to convince yourself. “I will be sad to see her back when it is her time to go free, but I promise that she will go free. I understand how selfish it would be to entrap her here for my own sake, and her happiness is what I will choose when it matters.”

“I appreciate your honesty, my girl. I will not intrude further, save to say this: Fae may appreciate it as well.”

Volfred take a final, lengthy draw and dumps the cinders of his pipe beyond the edge of the porch before he pardons himself to the quarters. You ruminate on his advice as you continue to watch Ti’zo and Fae, now having exhausted themselves and taken to staring up at the sky. Deciding the old sap is as usual correct you stand and walk to them.

“Oh, hello miss!” Fae exclaims when she notices you. Ti’zo chirps excitedly as well and you clear your throat a little. Wordless understanding passes between you and the imp, as so often it does, and chirps again to Fae by way of excusing himself. She understands him perfectly, of course. Sometimes you wonder if she doesn’t understand him better than you.

“Did you, perhaps, want something, miss?” Fae asks you, and you shake your head.

“Merely the pleasure of your company, Fae.”

“Oh! Well of course, of course, miss, I am always happy to spend time with my friends, and you are one of my very dearest, I think?” you blush a little at the compliment, rambling as it is in that ever-charming manner of hers. You sit next to her, and you talk beneath the stars. More accurately, she does most of the talking as you think and wait for the best opportunity to speak your mind. Before such an opportunity arises, however, she notices you are quieter than usual and questions you for it.

“Fae,” you start, and though you are at first unsure what you are about to say you grow more certain of yourself with every word of the cascade that falls almost unbidden from your lips, “I have not told any of the others this, but literacy is not the only crime for which I was cast out of the Commonwealth. In fact, were it not for my other misdeeds my reading would not have been discovered, possibly ever. I was exceedingly cautious about that. Would that I had applied the same care to other parts of my life.

“When I was first arrested it was for… I engaged in certain acts with another woman, you see,” and the question that had been forming on Fae’s lips dies and casts her into silence as she listens, “A petty offense in its own right, perhaps not one I would have been cast down for but… they searched my home as is their policy. They found my books and my fate was sealed, then and there.”

"That is an awful story, miss,” Fae’s voice is sympathetic, and her words are chosen with a level of care you are not accustomed to from her, “I know what that is like, I think, to be judged for a part of yourself? I was told, too, to stop being myself, back home, but that is such a hard thing to do, and I could not, and when I could not they exiled me.”

The tension melts from your shoulders as she speaks and you pray silently that she does not notice. You had not wished to think so ill of her that she would judge you for this, and indeed had suspected her own past would make her sympathetic. That said, past experiences leave marks that are not easily undone, and yours have taught you caution on this matter.

“Thank you,” you hear yourself say, “It means a lot to hear you say that.”

“Of course, miss! I said that you are my friend, and I meant it, when I said that. But,” she furrows her brow in that way she has where she closes her eyes entirely, consternation written deeply in her features, “why, I wonder, did you tell me this, and not one of the others? Surely they would not judge you either, no worse than I, I think?”

It strikes you that this is a golden opportunity to speak your mind, more clearly and more plainly than perhaps ever before. Fae has opened her intensely red eyes again, brow still furrowed, and fixed them upon you. You consider for the briefest, most infinitesimal moment brushing the question off, explaining it away as whimsy. You remember then Volfred’s earlier words on trust and honesty, and the moment is gone.

“Because you are my friend as well, Fae,” you tell her, and she bestows upon you one of her broadest smiles, “but… I would be lying if I said my fondness for you ends there. I suppose, in a way, my previous admission about my interest in women was a… setup of sorts for another admission. What I am trying to say is… that interest extends to you, if that makes it clear.”

“I…” the blush that graces her countenance is exceedingly obvious given her pale complexion, and in your mind all the more enchanting for it. “Me? I’m not sure I fully understand, miss, I mean, that is to say, I do not understand why you would have an interest in me? Because, I think, I am not so interesting?”

“Fae,” you say, and unbidden by you your voice is firm in a similar manner to how you speak during rites, “You are one of the kindest, brightest souls I have ever met, here or back in the commonwealth. You are completely devoted to those around you in a way that everyone should strive to be, and speak with an honesty that I truly envy. Furthermore, you are incredibly pretty.”

Her blush brightens beautifully when you finish. Despite – or perhaps because of – the intensity with which you conveyed your feelings, she seems to recognize them as genuine. You dimly recall, as you await a response, the last time you made a confession such as this one and how that girl had looked away after you explained why you liked her. Fae, you notice, holds your gaze perfectly while she searches for the words. While you seem to have interrupted the usual celerity of her thoughts, her sometimes unnerving tendency for eye contact is entirely unaffected.

“Miss Reader, I- that is so kind of you, to say all those things, but I am not certain how to respond, because no one has ever said them to me before,” your heart breaks a little for her when you hear her say that but you try your damnedest not to show it. Instead, you smile and start to wave the conversation off.

“That’s okay,” you break eye contact and shake your head, “to be honest I wasn’t really expecting this to go anywhere. We have more important things to focus on right now, and-“

“Miss Reader, no,” she interrupts you, and despite how gently she does it you are so stunned – she has never once spoken over anyone – as to be silent. “I know that I seem odd, to many of you, but I am not so clueless, I think, as you seem to expect. At least, I understand my heart, and the hearts of others, sometimes, and right now I understand that our hearts are aligned.”

“Uh,” is all you can say, because her eyes are hyper-focused and intense and gazing straight into yours. She reaches out to take your hands, slowly, and by the Scribes the contact is glorious. You have lost count of tonight’s surprises, so the shock is dulled somewhat as she leans in towards you, enough that you have the wherewithal to lean forward in turn and kiss her.

The Rites have well acquainted you with elevated heartrates, but this, now, feels entirely different. The fluttering in your chest is simultaneously gentle and overwhelming. Though the kiss lasts but a moment it leaves you breathless as you part. The effort it takes to open your eyes is monumental, but it is worth it the moment you see the way she is looking at you.

“I very much enjoyed that, miss,” she informs you. You let out an uncharacteristic giggle, because if you cannot allow yourself a moment of joy, a moment without your guard up even now, when will you? The moment fades, though, and your mind turns, as is its custom, to darker thoughts once again.

“So what now?” you murmur, refusing to let go of Fae’s fingers twined between your own.

“I’m afraid I do not take your meaning.”

“I mean…” you search for the words, “Our situation doesn’t exactly encourage romance, Fae. I’m doing my best to get everyone back to the Commonwealth, but… I can’t make any guarantees. If either of us makes it back and the other doesn’t then this would be meaningless. Are you sure you want to get involved in something like that?”

“For once, I think, you are not right, Miss Reader. Even if we do, as you say, become separated by the rites, our relationship would not be meaningless, you see, because any bond we form, that is worthy in itself. The memory of time spent together, it would be worth it, and I want memories like that with you. Besides,” she smiles reassuringly, “that is what Mister Sandalwood’s Plan is for, yes? Not immediately, perhaps, but we will all return home, sooner or later.”

“What if the Plan doesn’t work?”

“The Plan _will_ work,” she promises, “The Scribes, they tell me parts of their plans, sometimes, and it is their will, I believe, that we all return. One way or another, I think, we will not be separated, not for long, if we are to be separated at all.”

“And if you’re wrong?” you whisper, afraid of what her answer might be.

“Then that shall be the will of the Scribes,” she says with deadly seriousness, and you can’t help but smile. What an absolutely Fae thing to say.

“Yes,” you agree, “I suppose it shall.”


End file.
